French kiss

Day seven and I’m still here, although it’s been a long day and I almost forgot today’s post! Let’s hope I get it finished before I fall asleep!

Today is ‘F’ day and, after much internal deliberation, the word inspiration for the day is ‘French kiss’ and is used in a little flash fiction.

“Crap, it’s really cold,” I said, sliding out of the taxi.

He looked at me, eyes sliding up and down my bare legs as he handed me the umbrella. “I know, but we don’t have far to go.”

The day had been miserable, misty and damp, but we were in Paris and the weather didn’t seem to matter. Waking up late, we took time to make ourselves even later. When we finally rolled out of bed, we’d enjoyed a very late breakfast of flaky pastries and coffee in a little patisserie in the Latin Quarter and then spent a few hours wandering through beautiful art in the Musee d’Orsay. He’d dragged me away on closing, hurrying me back to the hotel to get ready for our dinner.

“Are you okay to walk in those shoes?” he asked, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I mean, I like them, but they’re not really made for walking.”

“They’re fine. I’m used to them.”

He grabbed my hand and tugged me across the plaza, apparently a little excited about his plans for tonight. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped and pulled me into his arms, the umbrella tilting to the side as my hands came to rest on his chest.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing his lips against my forehead.

“And I love you,” I replied, lifting my face towards his. “Thank you for this weekend.”

“My pleasure.”

I laughed. “It will be your pleasure later, but only if I don’t freeze to death first! Let’s find this restaurant, okay?”

Just a little snippet tonight… but as always, I want to know what you think. Or feel free to explore the site a little!

See you tomorrow with ‘G’.

%d bloggers like this: